Master And Series 4: Master And Emissary
by shadowglove
Summary: Sequel to Master And Prince. Camelot's Emissary Court is returning to Mercia, reminding all how fragile the truce between them truly is. And then, as expected, a declaration of war is issued...yet from neither Camelot nor Mercia. Now enemies must unite.


**Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin.**

Sequel to: Master and Prince

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The Royal Court of Camelot had not been to Mercia since the wedding of King Bayard to Morgana Pendragon nigh six months ago, and much had changed in Mercia during that absence. The people at first were wary and unsure of their young, new Queen, but by and by she won them over with her fierceness and surprising wisdom for one so young. She ruled by her husband's side, offering him advice whenever asked (and many times when she wasn't asked), and wasn't afraid to join the people and listen to their needs. It'd become a thing of routine for Merlin to accompany Queen Morgana whilst she communed with her subjects, Morded and Lancelot acting as extra guards though protection wasn't needed.

"Don't worry My Queen," the baker assured her as she chewed on a piece of his freshly cooked bread. "When the Emissary Court arrive they will find your kingdom enviable."

Her lips pulled back in a smile. "It was already that before I came."

He grinned, obviously charmed by her.

Merlin smirked as he nodded to the man and reached Morgana's side, arms clasped behind his back. "The poor man, he is smitten."

She sent him a grin, offering him a bite of her bread. "Mercia's best."

Eyebrow raised he shook his head, amused. "I'm beginning to believe your stomach is only expanding because of your love of Mercian food."

"You are so mean, Grand Court Sorcerer." Morgana's eyes flashed in amusement before her free hand went to the small bump, barely noticeable by her royal attire. "Don't listen to him honey, you know you're there." Her eyes widened and she sniffed, turning back towards the baker, who'd just brought out some freshly baked delicacies. "Oh! My favorites!"

Merlin watched her flock to the counter with all the grace of a butterfly yet hunger of a dangerous beast.

"If food becomes scarce in Mercia, we will know who to blame." Mordred declared with wry amusement as he reached Merlin's side, intense blue eyes on his older sister. "I never knew pregnant women could consume so much."

The Queen was the first pregnant woman he'd been around as well, and Merlin was learning a lot about this state himself. He was intensely relieved at his own preference for male lovers because that would mean he wouldn't have to deal with a woman pregnant with his child...not that it would be an easy task considering his heritage and bloodline. Still, the thought of being responsible for making a woman moody and seemingly eternally starving was somewhat terrifying. He wondered if women who'd conceived cambion offspring had normal pregnancies or if they were sicker or...

...he wasn't sure, and was grateful he'd never find out firsthand.

"Careful," Lancelot smiled as he reached their side, having overheard the last whispered comment. "If she hears you it'll be the stocks for you."

Mordred snorted. "She'd be bored if she put me in the stocks."

"Mordred!" Morgana turned towards them, eyes glistening. "You simply _must_ try this!"

"Yes, sister." Mordred sighed, sending Merlin an amused look before going to his sister's side.

"It's quite fascinating, knowing that this is the same woman who is on par with some of Mercia's best swordsmen." Merlin had to admit as he watched Morgana bully her younger brother into trying some of the sweeter fare. "Camelot did her great injustice her."

"Whoever heard of a law that didn't allow female warriors?" Lancelot had to agree though he was usually never critical. "It's a right and privilege of all living who have been blessed with the talent."

Merlin nodded in agreement, eyes alert on those around the Queen and her brother.

He continued his careful guard, as ordered by his King, as they made their way throughout the village and then returned to the castle, where she was safer yet never fully safe. No one was ever _truly_ safe, where they? No one. Not Queen Morgana, nor Mordred, nor Mercia, nor Camelot. They were all playing a very dangerous game and Merlin was still not completely convinced they could trust the Queen or her brother, a sentiment which King Bayard also felt, but it was admittedly one of the things that kept him entranced with his Queen.

"I've received word from Uther once more." Morgana announced once Mordred and Lancelot had left, summoned by the King, her bewitching green gaze going to Merlin as she reached into her bodice and pulled out a crumpled letter which she handed him. "It seems that 'my brother' will lead the Emissary Court." She shook her head, eyes flashing with dark emotion. "That's the first time he's ever referred to his darling Arthur as my brother." Those eyes turned to Merlin, narrowing. "We both know why he decided to make Arthur the Emissary, he's counting on using your weakness for him."

"Just like he's counting on Bayard's weakness for _you_?" Merlin coolly countered, eyebrow raised, face passive.

For a moment Morgana didn't react, and then she did, smirking, amusement in her every feature. "You're an impertinent creature, Merlin Emrys."

"I'm here to protect, not be _nice_." He replied truthfully, unfolding the letter and reading it over.

Mercians in love could not be trusted, especially not Mercians in high positions, and as one such Mercian the King had delegated any business with his wife and her tie to the King of Camelot to Merlin, while he'd informed Merlin that should Arthur ever return for a visit then _Bayard_ would take charge.

"It was quite smart of him to send this so that it would arrive a day ahead of the Emissary Court." Merlin mumbled as he went over the correspondence. "What's this order to wear a red gown in honor of your ties to Camelot?"

"It's code." Morgana replied, folding her arms over her chest. "It means that this trip is more than anything an information retrieving one. They want to know Mercia's strengths and weaknesses to know how early to start planning the attack."

Merlin nodded, finishing reading the letter and folding it back, passing it to the Queen. "We'll have to show them some weaknesses, won't we?"

Morgana tilted her head at that, a glint of curiosity sparkling in her green orbs. "You're devious."

"I'm Mercian." He replied, lips pulled in a smirk.

"So am I, though I do not blame you for doubting my alliegance." Morgana stuffed the missive back into her bodice and looped her arm around Merlin's as they began to stroll down the corridor as one, her free hand resting on her stomach.

Merlin liked her too much to deny her comment.

She tilted her gaze to him. "I think it is time my brother is moved to a different dwelling chamber."

"Does Mordred not like his rooms?" Merlin asked, knowing very well what the Queen was getting at.

"Don't play dumb with me, we're both much too smart for that." She scolded. "With Prince Arthur's imminent arrival I think the best course of action is for him to arrive and find my brother comfortably staying in your quarters." She raised her chin. "It will make Camelot stop and wonder whether Arthur is indeed a weakness still."

"I thought the idea was to make Camelot be the one to make the first move to dissolve our peace treaty?" Merlin asked, darkly amused at how transparent she was being. "If they believe Arthur is still a weakness then they would feel more confident to do so."

Morgana pouted, eyes narrowed. "Is he still a weakness, Merlin?"

"I have no weaknesses." He might have been lying there.

She stopped and turned to him, disturbed, annoyed, finally getting to her true intention for starting this whole conversation. "My brother _loves_ you."

"He's _fascinated_ by the many prophecies he's grown up listening to that concern me." Merlin replied coolly.

"It might have been that at first but Mordred's feelings for you are _genuine_," Morgana pressed her case. "And we all know you are not indifferent to him either." She drew closer and placed her hand over his beating heart. "Merlin, your heart can't still belong to Arthur. Tell me it doesn't."

"My loyalty is to Bayard, and Bayard alone." He replied, blue eyes meeting green. "You don't have to fear about me _ever_ choosing Camelot or Arthur over him."

And yet, that didn't seem to comfort her.

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Arthur looked older.

That was probably not the first thing Merlin should have noticed as the Emissary Court made their way up the blue carpet towards the thrones upon which Bayard and Morgana sat, but it was. He tried keeping his gaze cool and uninterested, especially considering that he knew everyone was paying subtle yet intent attention to him and his every movement, weighing his every gesture and expression, but throughout the welcoming ceremony and the banquet that ensued afterwards he couldn't help but _notice_ things about Arthur. The prince was growing more into a man, his skin darkened slightly by obvious exposure to sunlight, which made his golden hair and blue eyes stand out even more. He'd grown a little taller, still shorter than Merlin though, and his body had leaned out more, revealing taunt muscles no doubt earned by hours of feverish practice with the sword which hung at his lean hips.

There was definitely a warrior there.

"How are you finding Mercia?" Merlin asked when he finally found his way towards the visiting prince while the dancing livened the festivities.

Arthur looked up from the goblet of ale he'd taken a sip of, lips twitching into a smile. "So you've finally remembered your manners and come to say hello."

Merlin's lips twitched as well, clasping his hands behind his back as his gaze went to where Bayard and Morgana were dancing and smiling mischievously at each other. "I wanted to wait until mostly everyone were too drunk to be eyeing my every move."

"Ah, yes, I noticed that." Arthur nodded, leaning against a column. "I also noticed Mordred's seat by your side. Have you taken up with my brother?"

Merlin nodded.

Arthur gazed down at his goblet before taking a large gulp.

"How about you?" Merlin wanted to know, gaze going to where Mordred was talking to Cassius and Lancelot. "You'll soon be of age to be Crowned Prince, certainly Uther must be searching for a wife for you."

"We have more important things on our mind than marriage and future progeny." Arthur replied, finishing his goblet. "Though it seems Mercia doesn't. Camelot congratulates Bayard and his Queen on the conception of the heir to the throne."

Merlin frowned slightly at that before nodding, deciding that it was the truth. The child was the heir to the throne. He wondered though if this wasn't a way of Camelot trying to take control. Morgana's child was the heir...should anything happen to Bayard after the birth then Uther could take Mercia under his control with the excuse of keeping it safe for when Morgana's son became of age.

When there was a kingdom and power on the line, one had to always be wary of attacks from everywhere, even one's child's own crib.

Hadn't Northumbria's Prince Simon killed his father nigh two months ago to assume kingship?

"I've taken to training the knights personally, and have become Head Knight of the Realm." Arthur continued, gaze on the dancers. "It is just one of the positions father is slowly retiring from so that I may understand what it means to be king and the responsibilities it requires. Once you become king you aren't your own man anymore, you belong to everyone in the kingdom. The realization is a little overwhelming." His gaze slid to Merlin. "Training the knights though, that I enjoy. I find my mood has improved greatly with the daily workout."

Merlin wondered if Arthur was insinuating that one of the knights was giving him said 'workout' which had so improved his mood, and he bit back the jolt of black jealousy that coursed through his body at the thought of someone else touching Arthur. His magic still considered Arthur his, and that was something he had to fight against daily. It was why he enjoyed life in the Mercian Court, he didn't have time to be idle and let his mind wander towards the Prince of Camelot.

"When father learns that Morgana is with child he will want to come and visit for the birth." Arthur declared, putting his empty goblet onto the tray of a passing maid. "It will be his first grandchild."

Merlin bit back the comment on how convenient it was for Uther to suddenly remember he was the father of Morgana and Mordred both. "I am sure he will be pleased to spend time with his son and daughter after not seeing them for these months."

"I'm sure." Arthur replied, shaking his head as his gaze found Lancelot and Cassius. "I still can't believe you didn't tell me about them."

Merlin smiled as he turned to look at Mercia's best knight, and Court Physician. "They are to have a child, one of Cassius' patients is undesirous of her unborn child and has happily agreed to give it to them upon its birth."

"I shall have to congratulate them myself."

"Go on ahead." Merlin motioned for him to go ahead with that.

"And interrupt their no-doubt _fascinating_ conversation with Mordred?" Arthur sneered, sounding so much like Uther it surprised Merlin. "Where would my manners be?"

Merlin watched as Bayard stumbled slightly, a worried glint flashing in Morgana's green gaze as she helped steady him, whispering something to him.

It was moments like that that Merlin could almost allow himself to believe that his queen truly cared for his king and wasn't secretly plotting his terrible, untimelydeath.

But he'd remember that she was from Camelot and that they could never be sure whose side she _or_ her brother were on, and that hardened him up slightly to _both_ of them.

It wasn't that he didn't like them, on the contrary, he'd found himself truly enjoying both brother and sister...but his loyalty was to Bayard and he wouldn't hesitate to cut either down if they proved an enemy.

Everyone stood at attention as King Bayard and Queen Morgana excused themselves for the night, retiring to their quarter.

"That was quite early." Arthur commented after the door closed.

"The queen quickly grows tired these days, and the king doesn't like leaving her alone. He sees himself as her personal knight." Merlin's lips twitched in amusement to see his king the way he was with his much younger queen.

Arthur watched him before clearing his throat. "How are you, Merlin?"

Merlin turned his gaze to the younger man. "I am fine. And you?"

"Fine." Arthur nodded, opening his mouth to say more.

"Prince Arthur, I have yet to welcome you to our Court." Mordred cut in, arriving at Merlin's side.

Arthur went tense immediately. "Mordred."

The younger Pendragon turned his intense blue eyes on Merlin.

Merlin nodded, turning to Arthur. "We too shall retire for the night, it has been a grueling day. But please, stay as long as you desire and partake of the pleasures our Court is only too happy to offer."

Mordred smirked, motioning with his hand towards those still enjoying of the wine and music. "Shall you require more intimate pleasure, know that the Mercian Court is always open to giving and receiving."

"Yes, I know." Arthur replied, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. "I _did_ live here before _you_ did." His lips twitched nastily. "Though I suppose I spent more time in Merlin's bedroom than you have so you would know more about the other pleasures of the Mercian Court while I'm only versed in one."

That smug expression melted from Mordred's face before he turned to Merlin.

Merlin nodded. "Sleep well, Arthur."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Is the wolf fur still lining your bed?"

Mordred snarled and grabbed Merlin, yanking him out behind him.

Once they were out of the banquet hall Merlin tore his arm out of Mordred's. "I am not a _child_ to be treated the way you did. Be _glad_ that everyone was too drunk in there to see your level of disrespect."

"You're right, he tried to get a rise out of me and he got it." Mordred growled, slamming his fist into the wall. "Damn him!"

Merlin watched the younger male, taking pity as he remembered the boy was still so young. "If you realize he's trying to get to you, don't let him, be the bigger man." He sighed as he stepped forwards and leaned his forehead against Mordred's. "You're not the bastard son of the king anymore, in this court you're the queen's beloved brother."

Mordred reached out and clasped a hold of his shirt. "Let's go to your chambers."

Merlin pulled away and clasped a hold of the boy's hand, leading him away.

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The next day everyone was hung over from the banquet before, and Merlin tried to pass his bad mood off for it as well and not for the rumors that Arthur had taken one of the Mercian noblemen to his bedroom the night before. The young prince was free to take or receive pleasure from anyone he so desired to, and Merlin had no say in it. Hadn't he himself been hilt-deep inside of Arthur's brother the night before? It was thanks to that that Merlin was at his strongest today, fed and sated, his magic quite calm and satisfied. While it claimed Arthur exclusively as its own it quite enjoyed Mordred and Merlin found it more subdued whenever he would partake of the younger raven-haired boy.

Mordred was always more pleasant to deal with as well.

He'd greeted Arthur at breakfast with a large smile and had been impossibly smug all the way to lunch, where Queen Morgana had asked him to escort her as she showed Arthur her gardens.

Merlin hadn't quite trusted the thought of the three of them alone in that isolation and had ordered a serving boy he trusted to discreetly follow them and report back to him on everything that'd been said.

While they were on their tour of the gardens, and King Bayard was enjoying spending time with his hunting dogs, Merlin took the time for himself. He locked himself in the tower Bayard had given him from childhood so he could practice his magic and have a place to store his talismans and any other sort of thing he'd need. The older man had known the child had needed his own space, and during the years Merlin had accumulated quite a collection of rare grimoires and staffs and crystals. He grew rare magical herbs and dangerous flowers that secreted venom so toxic a mere touch could kill within minutes. There were ancient texts on magical creatures and monsters of lore, and there were also books on the monster within him, the Incubus.

There was so much he needed to know and yet doubted there were enough books out there for him to read up and understand.

He feared one day he'd have to search _her_ out...something he'd promised himself he'd never do.

He'd rather kill her than need her.

His mother.

The woman who'd taken everything from him.

His gaze rested on the entry on her in the compendium of succubi and incubi...a collection of all the detailed and accurate information on the half of his blood he'd rather forget.

The Queen was sketched in vivid detail, her beauty entrancing even when just on paper. She was almost naked, covered by a measly cloth she held to her, a seductive smile on her lips as she beckoned with her fingers towards the one who drew her. A majestic bed was shown behind, and all around her on the ground or against the wall humans involved in sexual bliss with succubi or incubi, or sometimes both at the same time.

Supposedly once a man saw her, the Queen, his mother, he would never be satisfied with anyone else...and yet his father had proven that legend wrong. He'd loved his wife, and Merlin had loved Hunith too. He didn't know if it was because they both had the demon blood in them that they'd been able to deny the Queen what she'd wanted...but they had...and they'd both paid for that transgression.

But none more than Hunith.

Merlin closed his eyes and clenched his fist.

Sometimes she came to him in his dreams.

They both did.

The Queen whispered seductive words of belonging and of home, beckoning him towards a place that sounded like nirvana where there were others like him whom indulged in their every dark desire.

Hunith laughed and sang soft lullabies of a better time and place, reminding him of his humanity and how he was going to be important and how she loved him so very much, prayed he was safe and sound.

He doubted they were really the succubi or human connecting with him on a spiritual level, but instead the warring aspects of his soul, the demon and the human wrestling with him daily for control.

Never was one side clearly in control. Today he might be more human, rational, thinking things through-tomorrow the demon could be more in control, thinking only of sex with a hint of violence and lots of mischief. Mostly though he tried to keep both sides even, to walk the thin line between them, to please both sides. But it was hard to please them both, they'd never been fully pleased. Never.

Except...except when he'd had Arthur.

They'd both been pleased then, satisfied.

His humanity had clung to him and his demonhood had buried itself as deep within the prince as possible.

Merlin grew hard and cursed himself, biting on his bottom lip at the way he hardened so quickly, so fully.

He tried to think of something else, to get his mind back on other things, and yet images of Arthur flooded his mind like a violent storm. His magic worked up, replaying the sound of Arthur's voice, the smell of his skin...

Merlin freed and clasped his fingers over his hardness before even realizing he was doing.

His mind replayed Arthur begging him for more, whimpering, pushing back on his cock as he fucked him.

Merlin's hand began to move over his cock as he closed his eyes, fully immersing himself in the memory.

A knock at the door below the long flight of stairs jarred him, causing him to curse as he became decent once more. "Yes?"

"Merlin?" Joffrey called out.

Merlin frowned as he made his way down the winding stairs and finally undid the many magical locks on the door, opening it to see one of the younger knights. "What is it?"

"Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering whether I could have something for tension." Joffrey smirked as he leaned his hip against the doorway, gaze lowering to Merlin's crotch, eyes lighting up in dark amusement. "I see you're up for the job."

The need still there, Merlin pulled the knight in and slammed the door before pushing Joffrey against it, smashing his lips to his.

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The castle was forever filled with gossip, and Arthur's arrival had done nothing but add to the already circulating murmurs. It seemed like every corner Merlin turned there were servants whispering to themselves with mounting excitement. It amused him, and he had to admit that the best way to learn about the people in the court was to listen in to the servants' gossip as they tended to be ignored and thus overheard things that could prove useful. And the gossip he'd heard lately had been intriguing.

Apparently Arthur had been asking the servants questions, which both surprised and flattered them since royalty weren't known to socialize with the common folk. The prince's questions had ranged from questions on how they were getting along with the Camelot Court who'd come over with Mordred and Morgana and integrated themselves into the Mercian Court-to questions that were far more personal and interesting in Merlin's perspective. Apparently Arthur had asked about Merlin's relationship with Mordred, and had been surprised when he'd discovered that it wasn't a monogamous partnership. Millie, one of the chambermaids, had announced that Arthur seemed quite smug when he's discovered that the only time Merlin had ever been in a monogamous relationship had been with _him_, and she'd giggled about how she supposed the prince was 'in love' with Merlin.

Apparently many of the servants of the Mercian Court were beginning to believe this, and Merlin's 'Ears' in the gossip world came back with the fanciful tales the servants had come up with to suit their fantasies. Many were viewing it as a fairy tale romance, where the captive prince fell in love with his dark captor and even freedom couldn't break the hold over him and his heart. Others saw it as just the prince being unable to find someone in Camelot who was on par with Merlin's sexual skills-and Merlin had to admit that that rumor stroked his ego.

Yet Mordred had his faithful who didn't appreciate Arthur or his presence, and Merlin hand his "Eyes" and "Ears" keep an eye on them should they try to do something against Arthur out of some sort of misguided loyalty to Mordred.

The last thing they needed was for the truce to be broken early because of some crazed servant.

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"I thought I would find you here."

Looking up from the bubbling cauldron, Merlin smiled brightly as the only other person his magic would let inside of this tower appeared in the doorway. "My king, I didn't hear you approach."

"I now know how you stay so thin. Walking up and down those steps daily is quite the exercise." Bayard smiled as he made his way into the room, gazing out of the windows at the courtyard beneath. "Lancelot has taken the Emissary Court on a tour of the Mercian countryside."

"Let me guess, Mordred and Morgana had enough of Arthur in the castle and needed a break." Merlin's lips twitched as his attention returned to stirring the cauldron.

"I believe so." Bayard admitted, drawing a stool near and sitting upon it. "What is the potion for?"

"You, actually." Merlin replied. "Don't think I haven't seen the stumbling. This will help you regain your strength. We need you alive and strong for many years to come."

"I should scold you for calling me feeble." Bayard mumbled, sniffing at the concoction. "What's in it?"

"You shall never know." Merlin grinned.

Bayard made a face. "I wouldn't drink it otherwise, am I right?"

"Very much so." Merlin admitted, removing the cauldron from the fire and placing it to cool. "How may I be of service to you, my king?"

"Merlin, you know that I only wish for your happiness..."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Has the queen asked you to intercede on her brother's behalf?"

Bayard palmed his face. "Am I that transparent?"

The Grand Court Sorcerer chuckled, shaking his head. "Not to most people, but I pride myself in knowing you better than most."

Apparently quite pleased with that answer, Bayard cleared his throat. "Merlin, I have made my desire to see you settled in a committed relationship known to you in the past, and I do believe that Mordred would be the appropriate person to do this with. I believe that once this issue with Camelot is settled and their loyalty is no longer in question, that you should take him as your partner, a _true_ partner."

Sighing, Merlin leaned his hip against the wall, arms folded over his chest.

"I know that what you felt with Arthur was special, and the gods know I mourn the fact that the one man you could never be with was the one you bonded with, but Mordred is a capable and useful young man who does seem to truly care for you...especially if his jealousy concerning his brother is anything to go by." Bayard stood, going to the younger man and placing his hand on his shoulder. "I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me truthfully...could you see yourself happy with only Mordred?"

Merlin lowered his gaze.

Bayard sighed, squeezing his shoulder. "You're still in love with the prince."

"No, I-." Merlin looked up quickly.

"Yes, you are." Bayard shook his head, sympathetic. "Son, if you fail to move on with your life it will only break your heart once more. Remember, this time of peace is just a game both sides play. It won't last. There _will_ be war, and no matter which side wins neither of you will ever have what you had before."

The truth of those words hit Merlin hard.

"I know this." He whispered.

"I don't mean to pry Merlin, but I am happy now, I am married and a child is on a way, a son, an _heir_." Bayard squeezed his shoulder. "I want you to be happy too."

"I know." Merlin smiled sadly. "I do...and it is one of the reasons why I will serve you happily till the day you die."

Bayard smiled, gaze going to cauldron. "Which will be a day far in the future if you and your potions and their mysterious ingredients have anything to say about it." He made a face as he went towards the cauldron and sniffed it cautiously. "Your coyness intrigues me Merlin, it's evil. What are these ingredients? How unpleasant can they be?"

Merlin's lips twitched. "You will never know."

"No respect." Bayard tsked, shaking his head, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Now come my boy, my queen desires our company."

And because he knew Bayard couldn't deny 'his queen' anything, Merlin followed with a smile despite the turmoil in his soul.

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"How did you find the Mercian countryside?"

From where he'd been leaning against the balcony of his chambers, gazing at the setting sun, Arthur turned towards Merlin in surprise. "Merlin. I didn't-think I'd see you-in my chambers."

"Sorry to intrude, the door was ajar." Merlin replied, going to his side and gazing at his countryside bathed in the scarlet rays of sunset.

"Not an intrusion," Arthur assured him, gaze going back to the magnificent view in front of him. "You have a beautiful kingdom. I wasn't able to enjoy it the last two times I have been here."

Ah yes, Merlin could understand. The last time Arthur had been busy with the Court and the marriage of Morgana and Bayard, and the first time he'd been a prisoner to Merlin's room, unable to leave.

"Since when has Lancelot become so...agreeable?" Arthur surprised Merlin by asking, genuinely confused.

Merlin barked his laughter, deeply amused. "He's always been that agreeable, you were just too jealous and possessive to see it."

Arthur nodded, gaze trailing the sorcerer, changing the subject. "I'm surprised Mordred hasn't demanded monogamy."

"No one has ever asked that of me." Merlin shrugged, watching the purple tinted clouds in the sky.

"I did." Arthur murmured.

Merlin chuckled, turning towards the younger male. "Arthur, you _demanded_ it, you really didn't give me a choice."

"You were the master...you always have a choice." Arthur replied evenly.

Blue eyes caressed Arthur's every feature and Merlin couldn't keep himself from smiling softly at the prince. "When it came to you I never did. In many senses you were just as much the master as I was, Little Prince."

Arthur stared at him silently. "Have you ever wondered what would have happened if we'd met under different circumstances?"

Merlin's lips twitched in amusement as he settled himself leaning against his hip, eyeing the young prince. "Such as?"

"I don't know." Arthur shrugged. "Maybe you were born in Camelot, maybe you became my manservant."

A chuckle escaped Merlin's lips. "Highly unlikely."

Arthur sent him a darkly amused look. "It's a stretch, I admit it, but what if that had happened? What if we'd met under those circumstances?"

Realizing Arthur was being entirely serious, Merlin thought about it, trying to imagine being a part of Camelot's Court, being Arthur's manservant. "I don't think it would work. If you were that much of a spoiled prince while as _my_ slave I dread to think of the colossal _prat_ you would have been in your own kingdom."

Arthur chuckled. "I would have gotten you into a lot of trouble."

"It would have been more time consuming than the _war_." Merlin agreed good-naturedly.

The two smiling youths smiled at each other, laughter tumbling from their lips, the burdens they both carried on their shoulders momentarily lifted whilst around the other.

It reminded Merlin painfully of a time in the past, in which his room had been his refuge, the one place he could go to after a stressful day and talk to Arthur, tell him everything, and somehow with one insult from the boy feel helplessly better.

His smile was tender as he gazed down at the prince. "It's good to be able to talk to you. I missed that."

Arthur gazed at him in surprise before a smile began to tilt his lips. "Of course you did. I'm not easily replaced."

The sorcerer nodded, his gaze lowering to those lips. "True."

He'd once worshipped those lips...

...lips far too sinful to belong to a human.

The sorcerer didn't know who'd moved first, hadn't even realized they'd moved, until suddenly his arms were around Arthur's waist, pulling him tight against him, lips claiming the blonde's. Magic crackled visibly in the air around them as Arthur opened his mouth to the kiss, grabbing Merlin's shirt and pulling him in closer. The sky above them rumbled, the clouds gathering, the color of the sun deepening to near blood, and as Merlin pressed Arthur into the railing a bolt of light and lightning crashed above head and golden specks of light began to rain down all around the castle.

Arthur's hand clenched tightly at Merlin's shirt before letting go to trail up to sink his hands into the dark tresses, clenching fistfuls as if to keep Merlin from leaving.

Arousals strained against the material of their clothes, brushing together, causing groans and gasps to escape their lips in cries of pleasure.

Heat blossomed within Merlin, his magic crackling around his fingertips and no-doubt sending slight electric shocks into Arthur through the contact, yet instead of complaining due to the slight pain Arthur pulled Merlin closed, arching off of the railing he was pinned against.

Above them the golden specks of magic raining down over the castle became multi-colored fire that died harmlessly by the time they reached land.

Finally Merlin pulled away, his eyelid heavy, not wanting to open, but he opened them anyway.

Arthur gazed up at him, silent, lips parted, eyes intense.

"I-," Merlin turned and left the prince's chambers, heart racing.

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"Something's not right."

Merlin frowned as he gazed up from the book he'd been reading in his private library, trying to force himself to stop thinking of Arthur, trying to distract himself from the need to return to the prince's room and finish what they'd begun. His gaze rested on the queen, who stood before him clutching a candlestick, the flickering light casting shadows on her surprisingly pale face. It was interesting that his magic had let her into his personal chambers, as it usually guarded his privacy relentlessly, but then again it must have felt that Queen Morgana's need was great. It had to be if she would leave her husband's bed in the dark of night to venture unaccompanied into another's chambers. "What is it? Is it the king?"

She shook her head, drawing closer. "He's weaker than before, but that isn't why I'm here." Her hand was resting worriedly on her stomach, her fingers rubbing comfortingly even over the material. "Merlin, something's wrong. With the baby."

Merlin's eyes narrowed as he snapped the book shut, standing. "Why would you say that?"

"I just _know_ Merlin. Something's _wrong_." Morgana's voice caught, tears filling her eyes. "You have to do something. _Please_. I can't lose him."

Staring into her eyes, reading the genuine horror and fear there, Merlin nodded before striding towards her, placing a hand on her stomach. He stared deep into her green eyes, connecting himself with her as he felt for anything, his magic entering the Queen and leaving them momentarily one being in essence. She swayed slightly and he caught her with his free arm, wrapping it around her and keeping her on her feet as his magic went to work within her, searching, searching.

Queen Morgana's lips parted, her breath slightly erratic as she shivered.

And that was when Merlin felt it, his eyes narrowing and his nostrils flaring in fury as his magic found the foreign magic hidden deep within the queen. It wasn't the druid blood within her, though that was probably what had saved her, her connection with the earth and life itself warning her of the magicks which had taken root in her body.

Someone had cursed the queen, the intention of the curse obvious.

Hissing, Merlin studied the signature of this magick, not recognizing it as anything from Camelot or Mercia, and that left him wary. This was magick of another kind. Another realm. Someone had dared touch the Queen of Mercia and her unborn child. It was an act of war.

"What is it?" Morgana whispered, breathy.

"You've been cursed, the child is being attacked." He replied, not looking away from her eyes, seeing through them inside to the magical core in her as it was obscured by the ugly, decaying magick. "It's strong magic, extremely subtle, able to hide its presence in you by blending in with your own druidic power and using it to mask its own presence. If you hadn't come to me it would have gone on undetected until it was too late and the child consumed. Whoever cast it was impressively powerful." He sneered. "I'm stronger."

"Merlin." Morgana clutched his robes, eyes terrified. "Save my child!"

"This will hurt." He warned.

There wasn't a moment's hesitation. "_Do it_."

Nodding, Merlin pressed his hand harder against her abdomen and narrowed his eyes as they went gold with his power, activating his essence inside of her.

Morgana screamed as his magic burned like boiling oil inside of her body, the sound loud and tortured, sure to bring the guards racing to his chambers in seconds. Already Merlin could feel them approaching. He ignored them though, knowing his magic would keep them out for as long as he needed to finish the cleansing, burning out the tar-like darkness that had coated the inside of the queen and the child she carried within.

Morgana seemed to light up from within as his golden magic seared her from within, the tar-like magic holding on tight, like a parasite, refusing to be removed from its host without a fight.

There was banging on the doors, orders for him to open them.

The darkness within Morgana was stubborn, slowly being eaten away like oil by fire, yet burning bright and prolonged within the queen. Merlin kept her gaze connected to his, trying to search through the slowly dissipating blackness within her, trying to find the source as it hid through the inky murkiness.

Mordred slipped through the magical barrier, hurriedly passing through the bedchamber and into the library, stopping once he entered and saw what was happening before him.

Arthur reached seconds later, stopping next to Mordred as well. Unlike Mordred he wasn't a creature of magic, couldn't feel the darkness slowly being drawn from Morgana and cleansed. All he could see was Merlin holding Morgana near and her obvious agony. And yet like Mordred he just stood there, watching without interfering.

Merlin's magic allowed no other entrance.

Finally the inkiness was dissipated enough for Merlin to sense the hook which connected the curse to Morgana and the child within. With a snarl he attacked it, the fire of gold burning brighter, causing Morgana to seem almost made of light as the hook and the hold it had on her and the child shattered. Immediately Merlin's magic consumed the last remainders within her and washed over the child within, probing, healing, restoring until finally all traces were gone and mother and child were safe once more.

Merlin would have pulled all his essence and magic from the Queen, yet left a bit of his essence in there, enough to allow him easier access to the Queen's psyche and protect her and the child further. Also, if someone tried to touch them once more he'd know immediately and hopefully be able to trace the magic back to its source. The remaining of his essence within her left the queen with only the hint of a glow, which could easily be interpreted as the result of a healthy pregnancy.

Tears marred ashen cheeks, yet Morgana ignored them, her hand covering the one Merlin had on her abdomen. "It's gone. He's well."

Merlin nodded. "I've left some of my essence with you. You'll both be safe now."

"Did you recognize the magical signature within me?" Morgana's eyes were now fierce in a way that only a mother could convey. "You must kill whoever tried to touch my child, Merlin. You must rain on him or her all the fires of hell."

"I did not recognize the signature," Merlin kept her gaze. "But I _will_ find out and the person will serve as a warning for any other who would be foolish enough to try anything against Mercia or its monarchs."

Morgana nodded, keeping back tears, obviously having been terrified for her child and relieved now that Merlin would deal with it.

"What is going on?" Mordred finally stepped forwards, sending his sister a look. "What was that darkness? How could we not have felt it before?"

"It was using the queen's own druidic signature to mask its presence." Merlin handed the queen to her brother, taking in a deep breath. "It was the Embalming Curse."

Mordred hissed.

Morgana's eyes widened in horror, holding her stomach protectively. "Curse to the seven hells whoever dared cast that on my child!"

"Embalming Curse?" The only one not versed in magic, Arthur frowned as he stepped forwards.

"Black magic, one of the fouler curses known." Mordred replied, disgust on his face as he wrapped a protective arm around his sister, holding her up. "It is designed to slowly coat the intended victim and slowly deliver death by attacking the organs one by one. It is a slow, and ultimately agonizing curse that cannot be countered once it's reached a certain stage of development."

"And someone dared cast this on the Queen of Mercia? Daughter of the King of Camelot?" Arthur frowned, eyes narrowing in confusion and anger. "Doing so is a declaration of war! With both Mercia _and_ Camelot." He shook his head. "Surely no realm is foolish enough to do something like that."

Morgana rested her head against her brother's shoulder. "Take me to my chambers. I woke with a dream from my child, pleading for help, and I came without waking my husband. He will worry for me."

Mordred nodded. "Of course, sister." His gaze went to Merlin. "I will stay and keep watch."

Merlin nodded.

Arthur watched them leave until finally the door to the bedroom could be heard closing behind them. "Who would want war with both Mercia or Camelot? It doesn't make sense." He turned to Merlin, eyes narrowed. "We have our enemies, both sides, yet those who dislike Mercia are allies with Camelot and those with issues with Camelot consider Mercia friends. Why would someone break rank like this and attack an ally?"

"It could be that the peace between Mercia and Camelot is unnerving the other kingdoms." Merlin frowned. "We're both powerful." On instinct he strode to the window and opened it, whistling before leaving the windows open as he went to the desk. Pulling out parchment he started writing something hastily.

"What are you doing?"

Archimedes, Merlin's faithful owl, responded to the call and swooped in from the night into the library, perching on the table.

"He's new." Arthur commented.

"Archimedes, I don't trust the usual channels of communication." Merlin rolled up the scroll and attached it with a string to the owl's outstretched leg. "Give this to King Cenred and Queen Morgause personally. No one else. It is an urgent matter. Please be safe my friend."

The owl ruffled its feathers, nodded, and then took off, flying out of the window and into the darkness once more.

"You think that someone might attack Escetia as well?" Arthur came towards the table, frowning.

"Escetia is another powerful kingdom tied to both Camelot and Mercia through marriage. If this proves to be an attack on the alliance it serves to believe that Escetia could be in danger as well." Merlin nodded, turning towards Arthur and leaning back against the desk, folding his arms over his chest. "I should have been more careful, I should have been able to sense that curse long before tonight. If the queen hadn't come to me-."

"Merlin, you're not one of the gods, you won't always know everything." Arthur frowned at him. "You saved her and the child, that is what matters now."

Merlin turned to look at him before frowning. "Camelot. They need to be warned...in case this really _is_ an attack on the alliance."

Arthur's eyes widened as he realized that, grabbing a scroll and pen from where Merlin had left them after he'd finished using it. "I need your fastest bird."

"Archimedes is the fastest, but I can get you one almost as good. Camelot is closer than Escetia, they should arrive at the same time." Merlin's eyes flashed gold.

Arthur trusted him, pulling the ring from his little finger and enclosing it in the scroll as proof of its origin before sealing it shut.

There were a ruffle of feathers and another owl arrived.

Once the message was sent, the owl instructed by Merlin to deliver the message only to King Uther, the Mercian and the Prince of Camelot stood together in the warlock's private library, unease growing between them due to the attack. Merlin knew that Camelot and Mercia had been waiting for and expecting an attack for quite some time, but they'd both expected it to come from each other, not from another source, so this new event left them shaken.

"Will there be a war meeting tonight?" Arthur finally broke the silence between them.

Merlin shook his head. "The defenses are strengthened. The queen needs her rest and the king will refuse to leave her side, at least for the night." He sighed. "You should go back to your quarters, Little Prince. Tomorrow will be a very long day."

Arthur didn't listen to the sound advice, his eyes grave on Merlin. "Earlier tonight, what happened in my chambers..."

Merlin looked away, uncomfortable with discussing his weakness for the golden prince. "Should never have happened."

"I agree." Arthur surprised him by agreeing. "It shouldn't have happened. Not that time. Nor the time before it. Nor the time before _that_."

Merlin finally returned his gaze towards the prince. "And it shouldn't happen again."

"It shouldn't." Arthur seemed closer. "It shouldn't ever happen again."

Merlin felt the heat shimmering between them once more. "Never again."

"Sometimes I hate you." Arthur confessed, sliding to his knees before Merlin. "I hate you so much I wish I'd never met you."

Merlin let his hand fall on Arthur's golden hair, his cock steadily coming to life enough to brush against the prince's cheeks. "Hate me if it helps."

"_It doesn't." _Arthur leaned forwards and turned his head so that he could suck the outline of Merlin's dick through the material of his trousers, the young prince emitting a throaty whimper.

Merlin knew he should stop this, should push the prince away, and yet he tightened his hold on that hair to keep Arthur still as he rubbed his manhood against his open mouth, the material of his trousers sliding up and down, providing friction.

Arthur finally freed Merlin from his trousers, biting his lips for a second before pressing a kiss to the cockhead.

Merlin groaned, resisting the urge to buck, as Arthur began pressing reverent kisses down the shaft.

Arthur reached down to palm himself through his trousers as he worshipped Merlin's cock with his lips, making his way slowly to the balls. With his free hand he cupped them, handling them as rare jewels, massaging them carefully as his lips marked them with their presence. He kissed and then sucked, giving only a slight second's pain before chasing the sensation away with his tongue, slowing making his way back up Merlin's shaft.

The grip in Arthur's hair tightened in pleasure as Merlin lost the battle for a second and bucked.

Arthur's lusty gaze rose to Merlin's smugly, those blue orbs telling him so much, before he suddenly engulfed Merlin in his warm, exquisite mouth.

"_Arthur_...!" Merlin hissed, magic exploding behind his eyes at the mere sensation as Arthur slowly yet determinedly took him completely in his mouth, lips wrapped tightly around him, his breath teasing the hair at Merlin's hilt.

A slow, torturous pace caused Merlin to clench his jaw, fighting the need to fuck that mouth hard and fast. Yet the warm moisture, the way those lips encircled him-the way Arthur took him deep into his mouth greedily-it made control near impossible. The blonde's gaze never left Merlin as his tongue worshipped his cock, his groan as he palmed his own manhood reverberating around Merlin's member and adding to the delicious pleasure.

Arthur released Merlin's cock with a loud, vulgar popping sound before reaching for it, pumping it with his hand, his own saliva easing the motion. As his finger worked the shaft, his thumb teased the weeping slit, Arthur's mouth returned to Merlin's balls hungrily, nibbling their undersides teasingly.

"I want your lips again." Merlin's voice was low, gravelly, strained, his inner demon surging out in enjoyment.

Arthur's lips pulled back in a self-satisfied smirk, but before Merlin could even comment the prince engulfed the pulsating rod in his mouth, relaxing his throat enough that he could take Merlin in as deep as possible.

The pleasure was growing uncontrollable, Merlin hardly able to hold onto his self-control. "Your mouth's so slutty, your lips-they were made to suck my cock."

Arthur groaned, a little of that satisfaction clouding in pleasure as he continued to palm himself, more urgently now.

"You like that, don't you?" Merlin smirked, tightening his hold on Arthur's hair as he bucked deep into that mouth. "You like being on your knees begging it. You like the taste of me. Like the feeling."

Arthur's hips began to move, a red flush creeping up his neck.

Merlin could feel his climax quickly coming, his voice breathier. "Where do you want it, Little Prince?"

Arthur shivered, letting go of himself to grab hold of Merlin's hips.

Merlin smirked. "You're hungry for it. You want me to spill myself deep in your throat and fill your stomach."

Arthur groaned, hand returning to himself nearly desperately.

"Who am I to deny my Little Prince anything?" Merlin's voice cracked as he started fucking that sweet little mouth in earnest, his thrusts deep and rapid, before he held Arthur captive as he thrust once, twice, and spilled inside, watching Arthur's throat work as he swallowed everything.

The prince tightened the grip of his lips around Merlin's cock, as if determined not to waste a single drop, before his body jerked, his face caught up in pleasure as he too reached completion.

Merlin watched the younger man in fascination, caressing his golden hair, watching as the prince slowly came down from his high.

Finally Arthur allowed Merlin's cock to slip from his lips, the prince panting softly on the floor, staring up at Merlin. "That was quick Merlin..." he wiped at his mouth with a finger, sucking at the digit, blue gaze never leaving the warlock's. "Seems my brother has been neglecting your needs." A smirk shifted his features as he stood on slight shaky feet, his expression victorious. "That's what happens when you settle for second best."

Merlin frowned at him, not liking the slight against Mordred, feeling protective towards the boy. "Are you done?"

For a second Arthur's victorious satisfaction slipped, before it returned. "Yes. I've proven everything I wanted to."

Merlin's eyes narrowed.

Arthur turned to leave.

Eyes flashing gold, Merlin watched passively as Arthur was jerked around and slammed up against the desk Merlin currently leaned against. His magic forced the prince face down, bending him over the side of the desk, pinning his struggling arms in front of him.

"I would have thought you would have learnt to be smarter by now." Merlin mumbled in a near bored tone as he gave the struggling prince a sidelong glance.

"Release me this instance sorcerer!" Arthur snarled, pinned helplessly to the desk.

"So spoiled." Merlin tsked to himself as he finally pushed away from the desk and turned to face Arthur, resting his hand on the small of the prince's back, slowly trailing his hand down.

"Do not touch me!" Arthur growled, continuing to struggle viciously against the magick surrounding me. "You are not allowed to touch me!" And then his voice caught in a cry as Merlin cupped him through the wetness of his trousers, the betrayal of how much he'd enjoyed himself moments before.

Merlin leaned into that ass, pressing his naked hardon against it.

Arthur groaned, pressing back against him, needy, all pretense of struggles gone.

Merlin freed Arthur from his trousers and underwear, that pert ass beckoning, those thighs parting invitingly. "You want that, don't you?" He whispered hoarsely, rubbing his hand roughly against a cheek, squeezing it and eliciting a cry of want from the golden boy. "You're hard again."

"So are you..." Arthur pressed harder against Merlin, gyrating his hips against the bare cock. "You want me just as bad."

That was true.

Merlin bit back the need to align himself to that puckered star, instead taking a step back, lips twitching at Arthur's snarl at the loss of contact. "You are right...of course...Your Highness. I don't get to fuck you." He pressed his finger against that slutty entrance, tracing circles, providing enough pressure to tease yet not penetrate. "Not anymore."

Arthur's breath was labored. "You damned-!"

SMACK!

Merlin rubbed that pale ass before delivering another blow to it.

SMACK!

Arthur gasped in shock at the second's pain. "What do you think-?"

SMACK!

"Merlin!" Arthur began struggling once more.

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

That pale skin was now marred with red, Merlin's handprint on each cheek bright.

"What are you-?" Arthur cried as Merlin's finger entered him the same moment another slap landed on his ass.

SMACK!

Arthur was warm and impossibly tight around his fingers, causing Merlin to bit down viciously on his lip as he slid his finger in as deep as possible. He slapped Arthur's ass harder, taking his frustration on Arthur's little games on his tender flesh.

SMACK!

"You _idiot_-." Arthur whimpered hoarsely, letting out a cry as Merlin slipped another finger within, twisting them. "Merlin!"

SMACK!

Merlin concentrated on his fingers, plunging them deep in before retrieving them nearly completely before thrusting them in once more. He searched for that place he'd memorized, had never managed to forget no matter how hard he'd tried.

SMACK!

Arthur groaned, the sound low and inhuman, a mixture of pain and pleasure as he struggled to push back more, to draw Merlin's fingers deeper into his body.

And finally Merlin found that cluster of nerves deep inside of Arthur, assaulting them ruthlessly.

"_MERLIN_!" Arthur came violently, his body spasming from the force of his climax, his seed spilling on the ground before him as his cock twitched uncontrollably.

As the boy prince withered in the agony of bliss Merlin removed his fingers, leaning over Arthur's body, breathing hot in his ear as he nibbled its shell, his cock rubbing up against the throbbing hole begging to be filled, to be fucked.

Arthur groaned, pushing against that cock, still hungry.

"You need to rest tonight, Little Prince." Merlin whispered into his ear. "Leave now before I do something that could lead to war."

"Like what?" Arthur's voice was hoarse.

The head of Merlin's cock began to tease against that ring of taunt muscle. "Rape."

Arthur shivered.

"Then again, one cannot rape the willing."

That had the desired affect, the prince surging free and turning pushing Merlin off of him, blushing furiously as he gathered his trousers. "Go to _hell_."

With that he left, the door to Merlin's chambers slamming shut.

Merlin closed his eyes, relieved he'd managed to regain enough control to piss Arthur off before things could cross that fine line.

Leaning hard against the wall, Merlin slid to the ground, covering his face, body trembling.

By the gods, he'd missed him.

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"I do not know if it is such a wise idea to have Escetia, Mercia and Camelot under one roof." Mordred admitted as they lay in bed together, the fire warming the room and casting shadows on them. "None of us have ever truly been allies before. I believe it is the perfect recipe for disaster."

Merlin had to admit he agreed, but what could they do? Just as Queen Morgana had suffered an attack, Queen Morgause and Queen Igraine as well had suffered similar attacks on their body, which had only been discovered after word of the attack on Queen Morgana had reached their ears and they'd been examined thoroughly by their Court Sorcerers. Someone was targeting the wives of the kings, and if that wasn't a declaration of war nothing was. And yet the person wasn't yet revealing him or herself, which Merlin had expected to happen. Instead the perpetrator had hidden his or her magical signature impressively well, and had managed to fill the hearts of the kings of three of the most powerful kingdoms in Albion with unease.

There was no other reason for why the Camelot and Escetian Court making their way to Mercia as they spoke.

The three kingdoms would join together and, the gods save them, actually contemplate a war with someone other than each other.

"The kings may not tolerate each other, but there is one thing the three share." Merlin raised an eyebrow. "They are all famously smitten with their wives-which is probably the reason why the queens were targeted to begin with. Losing them would weaken the kings and make them vulnerable to attack."

"Who would be foolish enough to risk war with Mercia, Camelot and Escetia?" Mordred frowned, turning to face Merlin in the bed, face young yet wise. "It doesn't make any sense, especially not strategically. They should be trying to separate us-not give us cause for unity."

"We were never supposed to discover the spells on the queens...had we not this could have been a very different situation." Merlin reminded. "It was only thanks to the druid's blood in the babe's veins that allowed it to communicate its distress to Queen Morgana and warn us all in time."

"Is the child truly safe now?" Mordred sat up, worry in his bright blue eyes.

Merlin nodded, leaning up on his elbows, the sheet falling low on his hips. "The child is whole again and will remain that way."

"We can't suffer this person to live once he or she is discovered, Emrys." Mordred ran his fingers through his hair in an agitated gesture. "I could have lost my sister, my unborn nephew-I cannot suffer the perpetrator to live."

"Whoever did it will not live." Merlin assured him, eyes narrowed with determination. "He will be cut down and made an example of. He hurt your sister and your nephew, but he also attacked the wife and child of _my king_. He will wish he'd never been born when I am through with him."

Mordred looked at Merlin before smiling slightly, quite teasingly. "My hero."

Rolling his eyes in amusement, Merlin snorted as he reached over to ruffle the boy's hair. "Brat."

Mordred snickered, shaking his head, before taking in a deep breath, something uncertain crossing over his features. "My mother will be arriving with Morgause and Cenred."

Merlin nodded, having figured this. "It will be an honor to meet the mother of Queens and a Warrior Brat."

Mordred slapped at Merlin's hand, snickering. "You will rue the day you said that. She's worse than Morgause and Morgana combined."

Merlin's lips twitched. "Queen Morgana better worry her husband doesn't fall for her mother."

Mordred stared at Merlin in horrified amusement, shaking his head. "You have a diseased mind, Grand Court Sorcerer."

Merlin chuckled, laying back down and stretching contentedly.

Mordred watched him before going serious. "Emrys."

Merlin turned towards him.

"Will I ever move into your chambers?"

The mirth melted from his features as Merlin observed the boy whom he was quite fond and protective of...yet it was for these same reasons why he hesitated to make such arrangements...part of him knew that Mordred could one day love him and as Merlin wasn't sure he himself could ever truly love the boy more than he had Arthur he didn't think it fair. Mordred already felt inferior to Arthur, always had, it was why that 'second best' comment had angered Merlin so. Arthur didn't understand, he never could. He'd always been the golden boy. The crown prince. He hadn't understood what it meant to be the bastard soon of a mistress.

Mordred was strong and powerful, wise beyond his years-and yet deep inside he was still a boy in so many ways, too innocent for his own good.

Merlin didn't want to be the one who showed Mordred the ugly side of adulthood and life.

He refused to make the boy his and yet have him as second best to Arthur in yet another aspect.

He refused to.

He cared for the boy too much to do something like that.

Mordred's blue gaze stared intently into Merlin's before he flinched and looked away, hurt flashing over his features.

It was only then that Merlin realized the boy had delved in his thoughts and had heard all of that.

Silently, Mordred laid back down, resting his head over Merlin's heart, his arm around his chest.

Merlin stroked Mordred's dark tresses comfortingly until the younger male's breathing slowed in sleep.

Hours later he was still awake, caressing that dark hair, and calling himself all kinds of fool.

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It took Merlin's every effort coordinating with Nimueh and Sigan (Escetia's Grand Court Sorcerer) to keep things running smoothly as the three Courts resided in Mercia as the War Talks took place. There were accusations and dark glances sent to every side, each believing the other could somehow be behind it and yet the fact that the wives had been the ones targeted kept the kings in enough doubt to not truly believe it. The three kings in the Battle Hall were famously weak for their strong-willed queens, and each of the three knew it. They knew that if one of them had started the attack they would have to infect and put their own queen at risk for it to be believable-to be willing to sacrifice her to the cause if need be-and there wasn't a king in that Hall who would do such a thing. Even Uther, who'd had his fair share of mistresses, was obviously besotted with his wife and had sent away the mother of his children to Escetia, hadn't he?

And that made things more uneasy because if it wasn't one of their tentative allies, the ones they'd made out of necessity, it meant that the attack had come from one of the allies they'd considered true and sound.

"Whoever it is is impressively powerful," Sigan reluctantly admitted as he, Nimueh and Merlin congregated in Merlin's Tower, having their own War Talks. "We're considered three of the most powerful sorcerers in Albion, and yet neither of us could sense the Embalming Curse on the queens until we knew to look for it, and even then the curse was masked so perfectly we weren't able to trace it back to its source."

Nimueh paced the floor, dress swishing with her every movement. "Who could possibly be this strong and yet keep his or her presence unknown to the rest of Albion? Without securing a position in a Court?"

"It could be a new player." Merlin leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest, a little uneasy with having other Court Sorcerers in his sanctuary. "Or someone who's been biding his or her time carefully."

"Both possibilities are disturbing." Sigan sat at the large table, tapping his fingers against the wood. "On the one hand you have someone who is young and incredibly powerful if this is just the first manifestations of his abilities." His eyes narrowed. "On the other you have a patient and meticulous individual who has planned this to the last detail and this is only the first attack we can expect from him. He could have had years forming his plan and putting his pawns in position."

Nimueh continued pacing the floor. "If we do not deal with this the kingdoms will begin to doubt our kingdoms and their ability to defend themselves against attack." Her piercing gaze rose to Merlin. "If we do not deal with this correctly, promptly, this could be grave for our kingdoms."

Merlin nodded, agreeing. "By now, word of Camelot and Escetia's arrival in Mercia will have spread to the other kingdoms. Those who are not a part of this will be uneasy and curious due to the gathering. Expect our allies to try make contact in fear of alliances being broken."

Sigan snorted as he reached out and plucked at a twig of dried rosemary tied together with a cord. "In the end...we may be the only allies we can actually trust."

Those words were hung heavy between them as the Grand Court Sorcerers exchanged uneasy glances.

If they could only truly trust allies they'd never truly trusted...hadn't they already lost the war?

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"My mother says you are ever attentive to her."

Merlin looked up from where he'd been going through one of his father's older grimoires, trying to find a spell which could help them in the situation. He'd immersed himself in his study and had lost track of time, finding himself surprised to see dawn's rays starting to color the dark sky with shocking, beautiful color.

Arthur stood in the door, having managed to slip through Merlin's magical defenses and entered, making his way up the stairs. "This hasn't been an easy ordeal for her." He took in a deep breath. "I wish to thank you personally for doing your best to make it better for my mother."

Merlin closed his grimoire, surprised to see Arthur. After that travesty between them Arthur had gone out of his way to avoid Merlin, as intended, and yet now here he was once again tempting the Sorcerer with what he shouldn't want-couldn't truly have. "Queen Igraine was kind to me when I visited her Court, I shall always endeavor to repay her with such kindness in return."

"Right." Arthur nodded, gaze downcast. "Well, I still wish to thank you, as the Emissary of Camelot."

Merlin nodded, lowering his gaze as well, unable to keep looking at Arthur.

"And as Arthur."

Merlin looked up at that in surprise, but the prince had already turned and was making his way down the stairs.

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_"Come Emrys." She smiled seductively at him, barely clothed and impossibly beautiful. "Come back to me my son. Take my hand and your true place by my side."_

_Tonight he dreamt of her, the Succubus Queen, seated on her throne, all around her Court bodies joined in carnal bliss, feeding her with their lustful frenzy. As always she was beckoning to him, her eyes his own, her lips his lips, that look of hunger familiar to him. It was his own hunger, the demon's hunger, a look all of their kind possessed._

_It reminded him how inhuman he truly was._

_"How much longer will you continue to fight your destiny, Emrys?" She arose from her throne, the movements fluid and graceful, her movement purposeful, her gaze determined. "How much longer will you fight yourself?"_

_As always he refused to answer her, to acknowledge her._

_Anger flashed through those familiar eyes. "Your place isn't with the humans, no matter how much your father has deluded you into thinking. Your place is here, with me." She reached him, reaching out to trail her finger down his arm. "You're the prince of this world, why play another's servant?"_

_He just gazed down at the woman who seemed younger than him, many times unable to believe that this demon had birthed him._

_"You cannot fight yourself forever, Emrys." She pressed up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss to his cheek. "The weakling king you have joined your cause to will never be the King of Albion, will never join it. It isn't his destiny just as being his servant isn't yours."_

_This wasn't the first time she'd tried to tell him this, tried to sway him with her lies._

_"You could have all you want-truly want-if you will just accept who you are." The Queen whispered seductively. "You could have the golden prince who you try to fight your desire for so desperately. He's yours. His body knows it. Yours knows it. And yet that mind of yours, that desire to be miserable and human, keeps you from seeing it." She giggled. "You do not truly believe the little druid can replace the princeling? You know he can't. The prince knows he can't..." her eyes were mocking him. "The druid knows he can't."_

_Merlin clenched his jaw, refusing to rise to the bait, to verbally acknowledge her._

_"Maybe you _**_are_**_ more human." She raised an eyebrow. "You're needlessly hurting those you claim to care for the most."_

_That barb cut._

_"Doesn't matter whether now or later, but you _**_will_**_ accept your destiny, my son." The Queen gazed up at him. "I just wonder who will needlessly die before you do so." Her eyebrow raised. "Who will your reluctance to do as written kill?"_

_Merlin's eyes narrowed._

_What was she saying?_

_"Take care not to follow too closely in your father's footsteps." The Queen smiled. "We all know how that ended for poor Hunith."_

_Merlin snarled, grabbing the tiny yet powerful being before him._

_She smiled slyer, having finally gotten him to react. "He will come for you. Be ready for it. He knows you are my son, and he will want the power you have."_

_Merlin frowned. "Who?"_

_She smiled brilliantly. "You're talking to me."_

_Merlin ignored her. "Who is coming for me?"_

_The Succubus Queen reached up and trailed the back of her fingers down his chin. "He has a reason to destroy the three."_

_"The three kings?" Merlin asked. "Or the three kingdoms?"_

_She reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek...and then he awoke._

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"You believe that whoever is behind this has a grudge against Uther, Cenred and I? Or our kingdoms?" Bayard frowned, clutching his cloak around him tighter to ward off the early morning chill, Merlin having come to him immediately after receiving his mother's message. "But Mercia, Escetia and Camelot have never been united in anything. How could there be a common link between us as to the reason behind this person's assault?"

"Maybe he was a Sorcerer who tried to find favor in your Courts yet was turned away?" Merlin asked.

"No, if he was this powerful he wouldn't have been turned away." Bayard shook his head. "It has to be something else, a connection not obvious."

"The kings will be needing to return to their own kingdoms very soon, they will not leave them unguarded for much longer." Merlin frowned. "We will not have the time we need to find the connection."

"I will propose an Emissary from each Court remain in Mercia as our liaison." Bayard nodded, rubbing his chin. "The Princeling will most definitely be chosen as Camelot's-though who Escetia will choose is a mystery."

Merlin gazed towards the morning sky, realizing that he hadn't slept more than a hour before his mother's venture into his restless dreams. "Maybe we shouldn't even trust her or her warnings. It's not as if I believed her before."

Bayard turned towards the younger male, sighing as he placed his hand on Merlin's shoulders. "Boy, that woman may be many things...but she is your mother."

Merlin flinched as if hit.

"If she warned you, it was for good reason." Bayard tightened his hold on Merlin's shoulder. "If she could love the father of her child-she could love the child as well. Just because of what she is it doesn't mean that it is impossible for love to be true."

Merlin's eyes narrowed. "She hurt Hunith."

"Out of anger and hurt...I'm not excusing her actions...I merely point out how they make her seem almost human."

His mother's words drifted to Merlin...it was human to hurt those you cared for the most.

The sorcerer shook his head. "I will never accept her as my mother."

"And that is your decision, which I support." Bayard replied. "But now, come, we must gather Uther and Cenred."

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It had been decided that the Emissary from Escetia would be Sir Percival, King Cenred's kinsman whom he trusted explicitly. He, along with Arthur (who'd been chosen as Camelot's Emissary as expected) would travel back with their Courts to their homes to retrieve all they'd need including a small entourage, before returning to Mercia where they would be the voice of their kingdoms and relay the information to their kings. Already Merlin could sense the ripple of unease throughout the kingdoms as word spread of Camelot, Mercia, and Escetia's apparent new brotherhood. The eyes of Albion were on them, watching their every move.

Mercia prepared for the returning Emissaries, and for war.

Sir Percival and his small entourage of knights and escorts arrived first, bringing with them news from the Escetian Court. Apparently a mysterious figure had been visiting the kings of neighboring kingdoms, claiming Escetia, Camelot and Mercia were joining to wage war on the rest of Albion. And from what Sir Percival could tell, many of the kingdoms were believing this messenger and had cut their ties with Escetia, leaving them vulnerable and in more desperate need of an alliance with Camelot and Mercia than ever.

When in a few days word of a small entourage making its way towards the Mercia castle reached their ears Merlin assumed it was Arthur, and yet when the flag drew closer he could make it out to be that of Caerleon, and he rode out to meet Gwaine personally. They dismounted and embraced, glad to see the other in good health, before pulling away.

"What is this news about a triad alliance between Mercia, Camelot and Escetia with the intention of wiping out the other kingdoms?" Gwaine frowned, sending his men onwards towards the castle to give him and Merlin some privacy.

"So that was the story brought to Caerleon as well." Merlin frowned, shaking his head. "The only reason why we are allying is because we have been attacked first."

Gwaine's eyes narrowed, placing a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Tell me."

So Merlin did, revealing the happenings that had brought the three kingdoms together.

"He's truly masterly devious." Gwaine frowned as they walked between their horses, heading slowly towards the castle gates. "He's managed to turn most of your allies against the three of you, it is only due to our strong bond that my father refused to break alliance on mere heresay."

"He is a good man." Merlin smiled.

"So he tells me, frequently." Gwaine smirked, before going serious once more. "Merlin, things are looking grave, alliances are shifting and war is on the horizon. The peace treaty Mercia signed with Camelot left a bitter taste in many people's mouths, and they will take this opportunity to retaliate."

Merlin turned to his friend. "Can we count on Caerleon?"

"I wouldn't have made this journey had we not already decided to trust Mercia and join its cause." Gwaine replied. "Especially after what has happened in Camelot, we realize that choosing our allies is important."

Yet instead of feeling warmed by this show of solidarity, cold fear gripped Merlin's heart. "What happened in Camelot?"

Gwaine's eyes widened. "You mean you don't know?"

Merlin's grip on his horse's reigns tightened. "Gwaine, what happened?"

Gwaine eyed him, shaking his head, before sighing. "It was a massacre. The King and Queen were murdered in their beds, the castle has been seized."

"_What_?" Merlin whispered, feeling his ever muscle freeze in horror.

Arthur.

Arthur wouldn't have let the castle be seized.

Not while he lived.

No.

NO!

"Merlin!" Gwaine shook his arm. "Merlin, word is Arthur wasn't captured."

Merlin forced himself to listen, desperate.

"Rumor is that the Grand Court Sorceress used the last of her magic to send him and a few others to safety before succumbing to her injuries." Gwaine replied. "The prince would want to take back the castle, the kingdom, but his companions will have informed him that the only chance he has of that now lies in Mercia. He'll most probably be taking the back roads to Mercia, they will be pursued. He's the rightful heir to the throne, it can never truly be his unless Arthur is dead."

Merlin felt numb. "But how can the people of Camelot allow a stranger on the throne? If it were Mercia they would prefer to die a thousand deaths than-."

"You really don't know." Gwaine whispered to himself, shaking his head. "Merlin, it isn't a stranger."

The sorcerer narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean? You know who is behind this?"

"He is one of the reasons why Caerleon stands by Mercia." Gwaine replied. "He claims a right to our throne and threatens to do the same to us that he did to Camelot should we not obey him." His eyes hardened. "But Caerleon is no one's lap dog and cowers to _none_. We have no master and will _never_ bow."

"_Who_?" Merlin growled. "Gwaine, _who_? Who is doing this?"

Gwaine took in a deep breath. "Ambrosius Aurelianus."

Merlin's eyes widened as he took a step back. "_Ambrosius Aurelianus_?"

"Yes." Gwaine nodded, gaze fierce. "King Uther's banished brother."

And suddenly, it made sense.

Igraine, who could provide more heirs...Morgana and Morgause...both who were not only the daughters of Uther yet wives of Kings who had the power to help them claim Camelot as theirs should Arthur and his parents meet an untimely end. Ambrosius Aurelianus Pendragon was slowly eliminating anyone with a blood right to the throne of Camelot.

"Arthur." Merlin's eyes widened. "Mordred."

No one had bothered to check them for the Embalming Curse...having believed that this had been an attack solely on the kings' wives.

Merlin's first instinct was to mount his horse and ride searching for Arthur, but he kept it in check and instead returned to Mercia with Gwaine. Mordred was closer and in just as much danger.

As Gwaine related the news to the King and Queen and Sir Percival, in the privacy of his tower Merlin found the Embalming Curse wedged deep inside of Mordred, and cleansed him of it. It'd had a longer time to take root inside the boy than it had his sister, and it took longer to exorcise and destroy. Merlin knew that the pain must be excruciating but Mordred barely muttered a sound, only clinging to Merlin tightly as he rode through each wave of agony. It left a toll on him once he was cleansed. He was weak and running a fever, the curse having already started to works its darkness on him.

"He'll be fine in a few days, his magick protected him somewhat from the full extents of the curse, slowed its growth." Cassius stood over the bed of the feverish young man. "If Prince Arthur was truly affected by the curse as well, without natural magic in his body to fight against its invasion I fear he might not have much time left."

Merlin clenched his fist. "I need you to tell the King that I have gone in search of the prince and whoever managed to escape with him. I will bring them back to the safety of Mercia."

Cassius nodded, leaving the room to deliver the message.

Merlin sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at Mordred's sweat-covered, pallid face. He reached out and wiped at the younger man's heated brow, leaving some of his essence inside to hasten the healing. "I am failing all those I hold dear."

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Merlin rode for days without knowing exactly how he knew where he was going yet knowing deep inside that with each mile he drew closer to Arthur. When his horse tired he exchanged it for another of lesser breeding yet strength and endurance at one of the villages he passed and continued on, knowing he didn't have much time. Whispers of war were on the tongues of all those he encountered, the people worried, and yet Merlin didn't have the head to comfort them, not when his own heart was racing in fear.

On the fifth day he found them, having heard his fast approach they'd hidden in the bushes. Yet he'd sensed Arthur, knew the prince was there, and once his hood had fallen from his head revealing his identity a pale Prince Arthur emerged from the bushes with near thirty just as pale and haunted looking people. They were mostly women and children, with only two other knights who appeared to not have slept since they'd had to flee for their lives. They probably hadn't...too terrified that they would be met with a blade to the heart should they close their eyes for a moment and allow rest.

Arthur was keeping strong for his people, but Merlin could see the haunted look in his eyes, the little tells that only he seemed able to read which warned that the young prince was fighting a losing battle with his self-control. It was important though, for Arthur to remain strong for his people, and Merlin let him, offering his horse to the younger kids and letting them ride it with one of the knights holding the reigns to keep the horse from bolting should it be alarmed. The knights and women and children continued ahead, giving Arthur and Merlin some time to themselves, which the sorcerer took to explain to Arthur about the Embalming Curse.

The blonde prince didn't speak, just stood still as Merlin searched him for the Curse, finding it lodged inside of him, surprisingly enough not nearly as advanced as it should have been. It was as if it were being repelled from fully latching onto Arthur, and Merlin realized that magic was involved somehow. He searched deeper within, trying to find the source of the magic that had ultimately saved the prince's life before stopping, eyes wide as he found his own signature magic stored inside of the golden prince. He'd thought he'd severed every tie with the heir of Camelot and yet now that he searched Merlin found ties anchoring him to the prince, a living channel of his magic dwelling inside Arthur's body, covering him completely from within, keeping the Embalming Curse from truly being able to get a hold on him.

What exactly did this mean?

"It was my uncle." Arthur finally spoke, his voice monotone, his eyes staring ahead of him unseeingly. "He's employing a sorcerer I've never heard of before, he's powerful. With one word fire fell from the sky, raining down on us, razing the villages surrounding the castle to the ground."

Merlin's flashed gold.

His magic inside Arthur sprung to life and wrapped itself around the Embalming Curse in a molten gold cage, burning it, destroying it instantly.

The curse hadn't stood a chance.

Arthur didn't react, still staring ahead of him. "He...he...my parents..."

Merlin's heart broke as Arthur's voice trembled, tears filling the proud prince's eyes.

The knights and the women and children were out of sight now, leaving Merlin and Arthur completely alone.

"I failed them." Arthur whispered, voice choked, self-hatred deep. "I couldn't stop him-I couldn't-!"

"Arthur." Merlin brought his hands up to cup Arthur's face, forcing the eyes filling with angry tears to turn to him. "There was nothing you could do but live."

"It should be me, not them." Arthur whispered.

"No." Merlin shook his head, gazing deep within those tortured eyes. "Arthur, your people need you now more than ever." He tightened his hold when Arthur tried to look away. "Channel it into anger."

Arthur frowned at him.

"Your pain, when channeled properly, can be your greatest weapon." He stepped closer, eyes keeping Arthur's captive. "Channel it, make it a weapon, not your weakness."

"What would you know about how I'm feeling?" Arthur hissed.

Merlin narrowed his eyes, not allowing the prince to wallow in these feelings, knowing it was vital for his own life to snap him out of it immediately. "My mother killed my father before my very eyes and then cursed the woman I loved as my mother with a horrible curse which left her soul broken, trapped within her body, alive and awake and yet forever asleep. Unless I can find a way to undo the curse, she will forever be alone in darkness."

Arthur's eyes widened, shock chasing away some of the self-hatred, self-pity that he'd been drowning in seconds ago.

"You are _not_ the only one who has suffered, and by the time this war ends many more will suffer the loss of their loved ones. Some will not be strong enough, they will break. You do not have the right to do so. Your people depend on you." He tried to convey his importance through his eyes. "You are the rightful king, Arthur. _You. _Not your uncle."

Arthur just stared at him, so incredibly fragile and vulnerable.

Merlin slipped one hand behind to cup the back of the prince's neck, pulling him to him, pressing a comforting kiss to his forehead before wrapping his arms around him.

Arthur was stiff, ever the proud golden prince used to protecting himself, and then a second passed and he relaxed into Merlin's hold, holding him tightly. He refused to cry, still too proud for that, but he took solace from the embrace, and that was all Merlin could hope for. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other, until finally Arthur pulled away, in control of himself once more. His eyes were still haunted, his skin still terribly pale, and yet he didn't seem dangerously close to the edge anymore.

"We should go," the prince replied.

Merlin nodded, silently following.

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They made it to the castle safely and were offered refuge, Arthur not taking time to rest before joining King Bayard, Sir Percival, and the others in the War Talks. Merlin sat through the sessions as was required of him, yet he had to admit that while war strategies were of the foremost importance, he couldn't fully immerse himself in the discussions. His gaze was on Arthur, watching as the prince buried all his emotion and sat as sole representative of Camelot, the burdens of his stolen kingdom on his shoulders. Queen Morgana and Mordred hadn't mourned the loss of their father, never having had a close relationship with Uther has Arthur had, but they'd given him their condolences for his loss and they'd seemed sincere. It wasn't to say that the three of them would be friends from now on or that they'd become close, but they realized that past bygones had to be placed aside. They were allies in a war that they could already tell would be a long, bloody one.

Arthur mightn't have a kingdom but Merlin was more than sure that once news of his safe arrival in Mercia was public knowledge those faithful to Arthur would find him in Mercia and join his cause. Camelot had some of the best knights in Albion, and their loyalty was legendary. None of these knights owed any allegiance to Mordred or Morgana, something the siblings knew, and Merlin could tell that they accepted the situation for what it was. It they were going to survive the dark times old enemies would be the only ones they could count on.

Other than Caerleon, no other kingdom stepped forwards to renew their alliance, proving to the three kingdoms just how isolated and vulnerable they really were.

"The druids will rise to the cause." Mordred stood, leaning his palms face down on the table. "Mercia is the only land in which they have been treated with respect, They will not want it to fall." He rose his chin. "I will ride out to seek out the colonies throughout Albion and rally them to our cause."

Morgana reached out and placed her hand on Mordred's.

He squeezed it reassuringly.

"We will send protection along with you." Bayard declared.

"No, it'll be easier for me to slip through the kingdoms unseen if I'm alone." Mordred shook his head, determined. "Also, they will not show themselves to me if I'm surrounded by knights and warriors."

"He's right." Morgana whispered, though it was obvious she was loathed to do so, worry in her green orbs. "He's safer by himself."

Merlin's worried gaze slid to Mordred. He knew the young druid could take care of him, proficient in both magic and swordplay, yet he was deeply fond of him and the worry grew.

Mordred's gaze slid to his. _Emrys_.

Merlin forced his features to go blank as to not betray his worry. _Yes?_

_You insult me with your worry_. Mordred, as always, could see right through him, lips twitching slightly.

Merlin felt his own lips twitching, before his expression returned to blankness. _When will you leave?_

_Tonight._

Merlin took in a deep breath. _Do not get captured. Return here safely._

_Is that a command?_ Mordred's eyes flashed with amusement.

Merlin nodded.

Tenderness entered those young eyes. _As you wish, so mote it be._

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The faces of his mother and father haunted him, leaving him unable to sleep for the nightmares of the corpses crying, begging for him to save them and then condemning him when he failed every single time. He tried not to sleep but his body was exhausted and demanded it, only to subject him to the worst of scenarios in which he was either seconds too late or restrained and unable to do anything as his parents were murdered before his very eyes.

At least, during the day, he had distractions.

So many things had changed and Arthur was still too numb inside to process them properly. He tried to understand how he could go from being the beloved, sole heir to a flourishing kingdom, to the hunted, homeless refugee who had to now rely on the support and protection of siblings he'd never felt the need to develop a relationship with. The thought of socializing with the bastards of his father's druid mistress had seemed like a betrayal to his mother, and he hadn't ever truly entertained the idea. He hadn't even truly considered the half-barbarians as his siblings. They'd been children his father had sired outside of the marriage bed, constant and daily proof not only of his father's indiscretions, but of his lack of regard for his Queen's feelings. It was true that the Kings of Camelot were known to take a mistress from amongst the druids in what was supposed to show their unity to the woodland barbarians, but what Arthur had come to find was merely just an excuse to cast their seed elsewhere.

He'd never doubted his father's love for his mother, but Arthur hadn't been able to understand it. Understand him. It was only when his father had sent the woman away with that hellion older daughter of hers to Escetia that Arthur had felt a smidgeon of respect for his father. He'd known with the woman gone his mother could be more at peace in her own kingdom. He hadn't thought about Morgana or Mordred losing a mother. He hadn't thought of them at all. He never did.

And now they were all he could think of.

The three of them.

His siblings.

His only hope.

Total strangers and if not hostile, indifferent.

It wasn't surprising and he didn't expect them to act any differently than he would in their shoes, but it made his position more precarious.

He was going to have to win over these people, and show that even despite having no kingdom he could be a beneficial ally to their cost. Not only did the people of Camelot recognize _him_ as the true heir and not his thrice damned uncle, but the knights of Camelot would find a way to him once news of his safe stay in Mercia was known. Despite not having a throne, he was still an important piece in the giant chessboard that would be this war. Even if not as a prince-but as a knight, a _warrior_.

Arthur went to the window and stared out into the night, thinking back to Mordred's departure some hours previous. The boy had grown during his stay at Mercia, his position as beloved brother of the Queen had been a great promotion from the bastard son of the King, and it was as clear as day that he'd grown comfortable in that role and in his place in Mercia. He commanded much respect and love from the castle staff, was beloved by the King and Queen, and was the favored lover of the Grand Court Sorcerer. He loved this kingdom, moreso than he ever had Camelot, and Arthur couldn't blame him.

In fact, he envied him.

It was ridiculous how drastically situations had been altered.

Once it was Mordred who'd resented him, who he was and what he had, and yet now Arthur was the one unable to truly give a genuine smile. This hungry darkness was a new feeling to Arthur and he didn't like it. Didn't like what it made him think. Behave. He tried to be a man and yet more times than not he acted like a spoiled child. And that angered him further.

He wasn't a chid anymore. He wasn't the beloved son of King Uther and Queen Igraine, who would spoil him and allow him more time than needed to grow and mature. He was an orphaned refugee, depending on allies they'd never truly trusted, to keep him safe from his very own uncle.

If it weren't for the fact that their uncle was targeting them all, would they have even bothered to help Arthur?

He frowned, tightening his hold on the window frame.

The world had been an easier place to live in when he'd belonged to Merlin.

Arthur tried not to think back on those times for many reasons, especially now that he knew that Merlin had indeed taken Mordred as a lover as he'd feared, but Arthur could never fully forget. With the distance he could keep the memories at bay longer, much more successfully, but even then they'd creep upon him when he least expect it and take him by storm, leaving him feeling lonely and resentful. He'd resented everyone. His father for insisting on the war, King Bayard for being Merlin's king and lord, Merlin for being Bayard's lapdog, and Mordred-he'd resented Mordred more than any other. Mordred, who wasn't the heir and didn't have a life of responsibilities and hardships before him. Mordred, who could live in the lap of luxury with his sister, and fall asleep in bed with the man whom Arthur wanted more than breath. He'd resented Mordred even more with this last visit when he'd realized that his brother was indeed in love with Merlin, that darkness festering as he realized Merlin cared for the boy in return.

Arthur hadn't understood how his father could be so blind as to believe that Morgana and Mordred were still faithful to him and his scheme of bringing Mercia to ruin from within. They adored Mercia, and Mercia adored them. Morgana, surprisingly enough, seemed to genuinely care for her much older husband...and Mordred...

A knock sounded at the door.

Arthur turned, wondering if it was Merlin. "Come in."

The door opened and a chambermaid entered timidly, curtsying. "Pardon me, Sire." She hurried forwards, thrusting out a bottle. "The Grand Court Sorcerer asked me to bring this to you."

"Thank you." Arthur took the bottle, watching the chambermaid scurry out of the room and close the door behind her before gazing at the bottle and flipping over the tag.

It was a dreamless sleeping potion.

**_I won't ask because you will deem it pity and be insulted_**...stated a scribble on the tag in Merlin's writing. **_Sleep dreamlessly Little Prince._**

Arthur gazed at the purple liquid. Even in this Merlin seemed to always know what was wrong with him and how to fix it. No one else had ever been like that before, hadn't always instinctively known. It was like there was a thread, a connection, between them. Most of the time Arthur felt insane yet it felt as if Merlin was a part of him almost. Maybe he was deluded. Maybe he just didn't want to admit defeat. Maybe...maybe...

His grip tightened on the bottle.

It was time to stop feeling sorry for himself, to push aside his spoiled, childlike ways. There was much he needed to do, starting with furthering his position in the Mercian Court and in King Bayard's eyes. He had agreed to help train the Mercian knights, and would make himself invaluable to this Court and those within it. He'd curry favor with the king, build a friendship with Sir Percival of Escetia, and strive to remain civil with Gwaine of Caerleon. He'd gain favor in the eyes of the servants, who were always quite useful to have on one's side, and he'd use the time of Mordred's absence wisely. He'd reclaim his damn warlock.

Arthur took the potion before heading to bed.

Tomorrow the campaign began.

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